The park is filled with people as the residents of Beacon Hills are taking advantage of this rare snow day. Shrieking can be heard as various groups are sledding down the hill, while others are making snow angels, and some families are even building snowmen (hey there Olaf!). Derek Hale, however, has been out with his pack of friends for most of the afternoon having an epic snow battle.
There are three reasons to choose War of the Worlds for his final term paper: 1) Orson Welles is awesome!! And, Laura already wrote about it in college so he can sneak a peak at her bibliography; 2) Stiles may have picked War of the Worlds as well; and 3) He and Stiles can watch the movie after and compare the differences between visual and auditory experiences, make fun of Tom Cruise a little, maybe. He’ll just have to convince Kate to give his idea back, crap.
tw au: the alive!Hales au where Derek and Stiles are the same age, the Hales are all deeply invested in Derek’s love life and Derek Hale definitely does not have a crush on Stiles Stilinski, thank you very much.
High School AU: Derek is the all-state senior quarterback set to graduate with a full athletic AND academic scholarship from Stanford. Stiles is the promising freshman quarterback set to replace him, so Coach has Derek mentoring him on and off the field.
AAAAH OKAY this was totally written for those two prompts I swear, but it grew into something a bit uuuh… different… It’s still nerd!Derek though I promise :p
This is also totally in honor of my URL change from demisexualhale to nerdderek :p
It’s two in the morning when Derek is woken up by a sharp tapping on his
window. He struggles with his blanket for a second and grabs his phone from the
nightstand, groaning when he sees the time. He’d been reading until midnight,
only stopping because he knew he had to get a healthy amount of sleep before
going to school again.
So much for that.
He slips out of bed and runs a hand through his hair. He doesn’t turn the
lights on, which turns out to be a mistake, and he hisses through his teeth
when he hits his shin against the nightstand. He pulls the curtains back and pushes
the window open.
Stiles scrambles away just in time to avoid getting hit in the face.
today at the bus station I saw two boys talking, one of them going on and on about school and the things he’s learning and the other leaning towards him and flirting and playing with his neck while the other just went on completely oblivious and it was just so damn cute
GIVE US SOME FLUFF PLEASE, YOUNG DEREK BEING SHY AND OBVLIOUS AND STILES USING HIS DORK STILINSKI CHARM TO WOO HIM
(i was tagged in this thing TWICE one by @adrihenriquez12 and one by my most lovely @hoechlinslapsdylansbutt and bells with the little request above so i’m pretty sure i have to do it now
*shakes fist* curse your inevitable use of my one true weakness, bby!derek hale being a sweet cutie pie)
Technically, Stiles doesn’t need to ride the bus.
Technically, he has a car and a license and enough allowance money to fill the tank, so Stiles has no need whatsoever to ride the bus to and from school every single day.
Logically, he shouldn’t even want to. It’s loud (which Stiles doesn’t really have a problem with), the driver is permanently stoned and infringes a traffic law at least thrice a day, the seats are uncomfortable and there’s always that one asshole who likes to tease Stiles (which Stiles does have a problem with).
His baby blue Jeep is infinitely better than the bus. There’s just one little thing that Stiles’ Jeep doesn’t have.
“-it’s not as if pre-history isn’t fun, but it’s just not as cool as actual history. There’s barely any records at all of anything, there’s a truly uncomfortable amount of speculation and I just don’t think-” Derek continues ranting, looking over at Stiles for support and Stiles dutifully nods because what else can he do?
Ladies, gents and everyone else in-between and beyond, meet Derek Hale, known history nerd, co-captain of the basketball team, honorary boy scout and Stiles’ crush since forever.
So here he is. Riding the stinky, uncomfortable bus because Derek is in it and honestly these few minutes Stiles gets with Derek, without Derek’s small hoarde of adoring fans and scary friends are precious to him.
For @emmmna who asked me for something to cheer them up. I went through my blog looking at fluffy otp
prompts and found this: “‘Be nice to your seat partner.
They might just be your future spouse!’ the teacher says, and you turn to me
and wink. Are you even real??” au. I wrote it rather quickly but I hope it makes you smile, sweetheart! ❤
Derek is a popular kid, and by law (according to
every teen movie ever made) his brand of popular is not supposed to get this dumbstruck
when the guy who once sneezed on his apple the first day of pre-school winks at
him in the middle of Biology.
Derek doesn’t know what it is about Stiles Stilinski
but he drives him insane– standing by
his locker, talking to that McCall kid in class, sitting on the bench, fidgeting at lacrosse games. One moment
Derek is a perfectly normal teenage boy with a perfectly functioning teenage
brain and the next he’s that guy in a romantic comedy; all the lights dim and it’s
just him, Stiles and whatever bizarre thing Stiles is doing. It’s horribly,
wonderfully unsettling and Derek is 95% sure he’s in some kind of love. (He is
still a little disturbed Erica had to physically drag him away last week when his
eyes refused to stop looking as Stiles tried and failed to lick some kind of
sauce – meat, Derek thinks it was – from his elbow.)
“What?” he asks, blinking, trying to look up at
Stiles’ face. Unfortunately, his brain has other plans and he continues to
remain fixated on the way Stiles is holding his pencil, twirling it between his
fingers. He wonders, briefly, what they would feel like laced between his
fingers or running through his hair before immediately stopping because no. Stiles also makes him want to bash
his head against the wall 75% of the time. He’s a lethal combination.
Lethal.
“I said I’d like a fall wedding. They seem to be
quite popular for some reason. Maybe it’s all the pretty leaves.”
Derek blinks again, suddenly struck by the image of
Stiles in a suit surrounded by crisp, golden leaves to match his eyes. It’s a
strangely lovely image and turning away a
little, he scowls at the way his stomach flutters. He’s seventeen for Christ’s sake. He’s only kissed one person: Paige Krasikeva during a
game of truth or dare. “You know Miss
Byrne was kidding when she said we’d all get married, right? We’re not going to
fall in love just because we got seated together in one class together.”
Derek hopes it will be just one class, anyway. He doesn’t
think he’ll survive the year otherwise. At least, his grades won’t.
“That’s what you think.” Derek feels his scowl deepen and Stiles throws his head back,
sighing. “Yes,buzz kill, I do actually know what a joke is, thank
you very much.” He blushes a little, ducking his head, and Derek instantly
feels bad.
“I, uh…”
“Dude, look. It’s fine. Sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, offend you or whatever.”
“You didn’t offend me.”
Stiles snorts. “Uh-huh. You moved your chair the
moment you sat down next to me. I get it, it’s fine. I’ll shut up, I promise.”
He mimes zipping his lips, blush deepening, and his eyes zero in on his
textbook but Derek can tell he’s not taking in a word of it, even as he turns
the page.
Opening his note book, Derek cringes, writing down
the date. He looks to the clock. He’s got another thirty minutes of sitting
here with Stiles.
Twenty-nine, he swallows.
Twenty-eight, sneaking a glance at him.
Twenty-seven: “I’m sure you’d make a beautiful
bridegroom.”
Stiles’ head snaps up and he drops his pencil. They
both watch it roll away. “What?”
Derek wants to slap himself. Of all the things he
could have said, of all the fucking things, who the fuck says…that?
“I, erm-”
“You don’t have to mock me, you know,” Stiles hisses,
defensive, embarrassed. “I get it. You’re basketball captain and I’m on the
bleachers. You don’t belong with me, whatever.”
Derek bites his lip, supressing a smirk. “Did you…did
you just paraphrase Taylor Swift to me?”
Stiles’ cheeks colour again and Derek’s breath
hitches. Fuck, he’s never going to tire of that.
“You knew I
was paraphrasing Taylor Swift?”
They both burst out laughing at the same time,
earning them a scowl from Miss Byrne and a guffaw from the back of the room. Turning, Derek catches Lydia Martin roll her
eyes at them before shooting Stiles a knowing look. When he turns back around,
Stiles is an even brighter shade of red, if that’s even possible, mouthing
something to her. It’s utterly, utterly endearing and Derek kind of wants to do
something stupid, like hold Stiles’ hand or draw hearts all over his notebook.
“You know,” he whispers, after a moment, feeling
brave, “I’ve still never forgiven you for sneezing on my apple. Maybe you could
buy me a new one, after school.”
Stiles’ mouth drops open. “That one is on you, buddy.
Who actually brings an apple to give
to their teacher on the first day of school anyway?”
It’s Derek’s turn to blush. Dammit. “Oh, I don’t
know. People with manners?”
“Are you going to buy me another one or not?” Derek
asks, rolling his eyes, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around himself.
God, what is wrong with him.
Grinning, Stiles reaches into his bag, presenting him
with a –
“I don’t know what kind of apples you eat but that is an orange.”
Stiles curses, scratching the back of his neck, and
Derek just about falls out of his seat with how tingly he feels looking at him.
He desperately hopes he’s not giving him heart eyes.
“Points for trying?” Stiles grins, hopeful.
Derek pretends to consider him before taking the
orange and beginning to peel it. “Depends.”
“On?”
“If marrying me includes a date after school today.”
In the end, it’s Stiles who falls out of his seat,
and Derek can’t stop grinning for the rest of the day thinking about it.
Pick you up at 6? comes a text the moment he sits
down in History. Erica peeks over his shoulder, trying to pry as usual, but
Derek hides his phone, heart pounding as he replies, I help coach the pee wee basketball team until seven. Pick me up then?
So. Darn. Cute, Stiles texts back.
“Derek…are you – are you blushing? Oh my god, you never blush. Who was that? Was that Stilinski?”
“Shut up, Erica.”
~
Stiles ends up taking him to an apple orchard and
buys him exactly one hundred and one apples.
“One hundred apples for forever and a day?” he asks,
winking. Derek’s stomach flips.
“Sure,” Derek says, shaking his head fondly, biting
into one and then, because Stiles bought him several different kinds, another.
~
“Forever and a day?” Stiles asks, fourteen years
later, holding out an apple. It’s cut in half and getting down on one knee he
opens it carefully, like a box. Inside is a ring.
“Sure,” Derek whispers, grinning so hard it hurts,
falling to his knees and burying his face in Stiles’ neck to hide his blush.
shealwaysreads 